


Off The Street

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Consensual Non-Consent, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Incest, Kidnapping, Podfic Welcome, Rimming, Size Difference, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 06:30:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19718107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Diego always told Vanya not to go out walking by herself at night.





	Off The Street

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to Electra XT for beta-ing!

Vanya was the first to admit that she didn’t have the best situational awareness. She was so used to being ignored by everyone that she didn’t really bother with worrying about being bothered— the kinds of men who bothered women walking home at night seemed to look right through her, and she’d never had anyone hassle her in all of her years walking alone. She knew she could rely on her powers, when push came to shove, but… still. It was a bit too easy to get the drop on her sometimes. All of her siblings got on her case about it; Diego had been lecturing her about it this morning. 

_I know you like to listen to your fancy old music when you’re walking home at night, but you look like an easy target_ , he’d said to her over coffee that morning. 

_I only look like an easy target_ , she’d responded, and she had felt pretty smug about it at the time. 

And now she had Bach in her ears and a knife pressing into her ribs. She hadn’t heard the person come up behind her, and one of her headphones was pulled off of her ear. 

“Try any of that power bullshit, and I’ll gut you like a fucking fish,” growled a voice in her ear, and she froze up. 

“W-w-w-” She tried to stutter out, as terror hammered through her, the music in her headphones a counter to the manic beat of her heart. 

“Shut up,” growled the person— she was almost certain it was a man. The voice was deep, and it vibrated against her back through his chest. “Shut the fuck up, you stupid cunt, and if you’re lucky I won’t slit you open.” 

The music was still playing in one ear, and she nodded desperately, her stomach twisting. She was terrified— she was more terrified than she’d been with Leonard or Harold or whoever he was, more terrified than the time with Luther, more terrified than she’d ever been, and it seemed to be translating into… arousal, which made no sense. The throbbing in her ears was matched by the throbbing between her legs. 

_I wish I wasn’t wearing such a thin shirt_ , she thought, and she was aware that it was a gibbering, incoherent sort of thought. _He can see my nipples. I should have worn a bra_. 

“Close your eyes,” growled the voice in her ear. There was so much body around her own— a broad chest against her back, strong arms moving the knife to her throat. Her headphones were yanked off, and her walkman was pulled out of her pocket. So on top of being kidnapped, she was having her walkman stolen. That extra indignity made it worse, somehow. 

“But—“

“Close your eyes,” growled the voice in her ear, and there was stubble rubbing against her cheek, “or I’ll slit your throat from ear to ear.”

_Wow. Someone read a lot of pulp novels_ , and that wasn’t the thing to be thinking about at a time like this. A hysterical giggle was trying to make its way out of her, like a little pocket of gas, and she bit her lip to keep it in. She didn’t know if the guy could see her face, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t like her smiling. 

Vanya closed her eyes, and the knife left her ribs. Before she had a chance to gather up her power (there were so many sounds here for her to concentrate on, so many things she could use to protect herself), there was material covering her eyes, tightening around her head, and when she opened her eyes, all she saw were dim outlines through the black cloth. 

“I can’t have you identifying me,” said the man. The knife was back against her side. “Assuming you’re good enough that I keep you alive.” 

She shuddered, her terror translating to arousal, worming its way down her spine like some kind of parasite. Her clit thumped at her like a metronome, and her nipples were so hard they could have cut glass. 

“Are you going to be good for me?” The knife traced along her side, and the point of it was sharp even through her shirt.

She nodded frantically. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said. “Now move.” He prodded her, grabbing her by the back of the neck. He was wearing leather gloves, and they were cold. They creaked. "Now walk. And don't try anything funny, or I'll slit your throat."

 _You need some variety in your threats_ , gibbered the terrified critic in the back of Vanya's head. She stumbled, trying not to trip. She let herself be marched toward who knew what. She was glad she didn’t have her violin on her, at least. She didn’t want to think about what this kind of nogoodnik would do to her violin. 

There was a metal sound, and then there was a hand on top of her head, and she was being guided… inside a car? The guy had a car nearby? Who would park their car in an alley, especially around here? She closed her eyes behind the blindfold, and she felt him lean over her, buckling her in. He was wearing enough leather that she could smell it, and the deep aroma of it filled her head up, like perfume in an elevator.

“I don’t want you getting any funny ideas,” he growled, and then he was grabbing her wrists— there was a click, and cold metal was holding on to her wrists, forcing them together. She shifted. Handcuffs. They weren’t too tight, thankfully— if she’d been trained like her siblings, maybe she would have been able to get out of them, but as it was, she was stuck. 

She was painfully aware of the belt holding her in place, of the sweat making her shirt stick to her back, the way the seam of her pants rubbed against her clit as she shifted position in her seat, and her boxers were slick with arousal. 

“We’re going on a little trip,” said the man, and she heard the slam of the door closing, then another metal noise, and the car shook as he climbed into it. Then the sound of an engine turning over, and the clicking of the various mechanical things turning on. 

“Please,” Vanya said, because the words were trying to burst out of her mouth. “Please, I have money, I can—”

"Shut up," snarled the man. "I know you don't have any money."

"My family—" 

"I don't give two shits about your family," barked the man. That couldn't have been good for his voice. 

"But they can—"

"If you don't shut up right now, I'm going to cut your tits off and make you eat them," said the man. 

_I think that was in that movie Diego insisted we watch two weeks ago_ , whispered the incredulous part of Vanya's mind, as she tugged on the handcuffs and squirmed in her seat. 

"Did you hear me?" The car began to move. She heard the tires moving across the rough alley floor, and then the car was moving out of the alley.

She nodded jerkily. She was afraid to say anything else, because as stupid as his threat had been, what if he'd meant it? 

"Good," said the man. "Now shut up. I'm taking you somewhere more private."

Vanya's heart beat in her throat, in her ears, in her clit. He'd find out how wet she was, and he'd.... what? She had a feeling he'd be mad, a feeling in her gut that kept getting stronger.

The car drove on, and the terror in her guts seemed to get bigger, like someone filling up a balloon. If it popped, would she explode? That was a terrifying thought. How would he even react to her exploding in his car. Probably not well. She bit back another nervous titter, her whole body on edge, her skin too tight, her lips bitten and her eyes tearing up. She was crying, just a bit. How about that? When had she started to cry? It was silent crying, at least. Would he have been angrier at her if she'd been crying louder?

The rocking of the car was almost soothing— the rocking, and the darkness behind the blindfold. She liked the dark, and the fact that it wasn't silent kept a little bit of the panic at bay. The noises from the street drifted past, like they were coming from a long way off. _I could open the door, let myself out. Except he buckled me in. He must have thought of that_. She kept her eyes shut, and she let herself be rocked, although it felt wrong to be relaxing while she was being kidnapped— it felt even worse than being turned on by it. What was wrong with her? Since she'd gotten off of her meds, she seemed to have so many feelings, and sometimes it seemed like she felt them all at the same time. 

She kept her eyes shut, and she tried to grab hold of her powers. They seemed just out of reach— was it the arousal? Although she'd accessed her powers while aroused in the past, and this combination of terror and arousal was pretty new. She reached out with her mind and they slid out of reach, like trying to catch a snake in a puddle of oil.

The car turned off, and that in and of itself shocked her eyes open. She made some kind of desperate noise, and received a pinch on the inner thigh, right through her pants.

"We're here," he said, and she whimpered as he pinched harder, hard enough that she just _knew_ she was going to bruise. "You try any funny business like screaming for help, you'll regret it." 

Vanya nodded desperately, and she licked her lips. She was shaking, and then the car door was opening, and the one next to her was opening— a rush of cool air against her cheek, and then she was being unbuckled, and... _lifted_?!

"You're fuckin' tiny," said the man, and he sounded... did he sound amused? He slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, his hand on her ass to keep her in place. 

Her nose was pressed into the thick fabric of his shirt. She could smell his sweat, smell the leather he was wearing, and his shoulder was digging into her gut. If he did too much of this, he was possibly going to throw up down this guy's back. She was being bounced, and his hand was groping her— full on _groping_ her ass, and then he was jiggling her, as his shoulder shifted. There was the sound of a door opening, and then the thud of it closing as they walked into wherever they were. 

"You're so tiny, I can’t believe you had the balls to walk around outside by yourself at night. Anyone could just... pick you up off the street." He bounced her again, and his hand cupping her crotch, pressing against the zipper. It wasn't much in the way of stimulation, but he was _there_ , heavy and hot against her, even through her pants. 

Her tears trickled up towards her hairline, and she whined as his thumb pressed against her. There was the sound of a door opening, and then there was the sensation of being in a larger room, and she heard his footsteps echoing in it. She tried to figure out how to zero in on what kind of room it was— in the movies, someone could figure out if it was a warehouse or a boxing gym or an apartment, but it all seemed to be happening too fast— he was in the building, then he was opening another door, and they were in another room (a smaller room), and the man was walking down the steps, and then—

Vanya was dropped onto a bed. She grunted, as her hips were grabbed, and then she was flipped onto her back. 

“Much better,” said the man, and then something cold and sharp was pressed against her belly. There was a ripping noise, and then coolness across her belly. Across her sternum, and the fabric of her shirt was parted. Hot hands on her breasts, squeezing them roughly, and then fingers pinching her nipples. “God, I’ve been dreaming about your tits for _months_.”

Vanya whimpered, and he chuckled like a drain. 

“Oh, honey, I’ve been watching you for a while. I always keep my eye on the pretty ones. The pretty easy ones.” He pushed her breasts together, inasmuch as he could. She’d seen that in one of the porno magazines that Diego had hidden under his mattress, although she’d never gotten the appeal of that. But what did she know?

She wanted to say something—anything— but what could she say? He said he’d hurt her if she did, or had that just been for when they were in the car? She was probably overthinking this— she probably should have been fighting back. She should have done _something_. Instead, she just lay there, as he slobbered on her tits, sucking hickeys along the sides, sucking and kissing one nipple, then the other. His teeth dug into the side of her breast, and she cried out, her head thrown back and her mouth falling open. Her hips stutterd forward, and she yanked at the handcuffs. 

The man was cutting at the seams of her pants. She was wearing an old pair of jeans, so old and soft that the denim was more like cotton at this point. The fabric ripped easily, and the sound of it was loud over the pounding in her ears. _He’s going to see how wet I am_. Her cheeks heated up, and more tears dripped down her ears. 

“Would you look at that,” he said, and there was a chuckle in his voice, as he pressed his thumb against her slit through her boxers, forcing the cold, sodden fabric against her. “All that cryin’ you’re doing, and you’re just having the time of your life, ain’t you?” The thumb moved up, found her clit. The pleasure wormed through her like worms in compost, and it solicited the same amount of disgust. "You just want anyone to fill that hole of yours."

"No," Vanya mumbled, and oh _fuck_ , was he going to cut her breasts off?

"No? This sticky, sloppy mess isn't getting my gloves all wet?" She shook her head frantically as the knife pressed into her thigh, drew along the crotch of her boxers. She held her breath as the cold metal passed over her wet pussy. The fabric parted like butter under a hot knife. 

He slapped her on the pussy. It was an open handed slap, and the flash of pain was enough to make her yelp, her hips thrusting up before she had a chance to stop herself. He laughed, and he did it again, then took her entire vulva into his hand and _squeezed_ , the same way he had squeezed her thigh. Her cunt pulsed, her clit desperate for more stimulation. 

"Don't lie to me," he said sharply. "I can tell when you lie." 

"I'm not lying," Vanya said. "I'm not lying, I promise, I'm not, I'm… _ah_!” She squealed, as his fingers were shoved into her roughly— two of them, covered in leather. She clenched around them, as he pressed his thumb against her clit and wriggled the fingers inside of her. 

"You promise you're not what? Getting off on being kidnapped? Soaking wet from getting snatched off the street by some stranger, fingers in your tight little cunt?" His fingers squelched as he thrust them into her, and his thumb was unrelenting on her clit. She arched her back, not sure if she was trying to get away or get them deeper, as if they could get any deeper.

"Please," Vanya whined, and she didn't know what she was begging for. She was already so close to coming, as another gloved finger pinched her nipple, twisting it like a radio dial. " _Please_!"

"Please what?" He curled his fingers right up against her g-spot, his knuckles bulging, stretching her out. 

She rattled the handcuffs, and she spread her legs wider, humping up lewdly into his hands. The waistband of her jeans was biting into the soft underside of her stomach, but her pussy was still on full display for the whole room. On display for this stranger, who was staring at one of the most intimate parts of her body. The humiliation was blending in with the arousal, braided together like a rope. She was crying openly now, ugly, awkward crying, and at least it was louder than the sounds that her pussy was making, right?

"You're gonna come for me, baby," said the man, and his fingers were speeding up. "You're gonna come all over my fingers, like the dirty fucking slut you are. Come on, do it. Give it to me, I want it."

She sobbed, and the pleasure that had been building and building finally broke like a stick underfoot. She came around his fingers as he ground down on her clit. She was probably babbling something embarrassing, but he didn't seem to be paying any attention to her words. He was hoisting her hips up— he was so _strong_ — and then there was hot breath ghosting across her pubic hair, and a wet tongue stroking across her slit. 

"No, no, please don't, please... ow!" He bit her thigh, right in the middle of her pleading. A full on bite, sucking on it hard enough that she just knew she was going to have a hickey. He was supporting her with his hands under her so that her shoulders and head were the only part of her that were touching the mattress. Her cuffed hands reached out, but he'd positioned himself so that she couldn't reach his head. That made sense— what would she have done, if she could dig her nails into his delicate scalp, or his vulnerable eyes?

Considering just how turned on she was, she was ashamed to admit that even she wasn't sure if she'd make him stop or not. But that wasn't a train of thought she was going to pursue. 

"God," he said, his lips tickling as he spoke against her thigh, "you're so wet. And you can say "no" all you want. Your wet cunt can't lie to me." He bit her other thigh, in the same spot, sucking on the skin until she was screaming. He didn't seem mad about the screaming, at least— she could feel him chuckling some more, as he pressed kisses up her thigh, pausing to slide his tongue along the crease where her leg joined her torso. 

"No, no, please don't, I'll do anything, I'll do anything, please, just let me go, I'll give you money, I'll... I'll..." She trailed off, as his mouth found her pussy again. He adjusted her, so that her knees were resting on his shoulders, and then his whole face was in her pussy. He burrowed his face forward, his stubbly cheeks rough against her labia, his tongue sliding inside of her like a thief in the night. His nose was right on her clit, and she sobbed as the pleasure began to build up in her again. She was already so over-sensitized, already on edge enough that he probably wouldn't have to do much to get her to come.

He shifted, so that his lips could wrap around her clit, and then his tongue was tapping against it like he was trying to send a Morse code message. He was _humming_ , the vibrations of it dancing across her clit, up her back, until her legs were going stiff, her heels digging into his back. Her neck was going to be sore, and her vulva was already starting to feel abraded from all of the rubbing of his face. But he was making wet, happy noises, like a pig in a trough. 

She came across his face with a whimper, her hips humping desperately up into his face, her heels digging into his back. She thrashed against him as he kept licking her and licking her, before he finally lowered her on the bed. He pressed a kiss that could best be described as "tender" onto her mound, and she whimpered— she was more sensitive than she'd ever been in her life, and she couldn't stop shaking.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" He pressed his thumb into one of the bite marks on her inner thigh. "You shouldn't have fuckin' whined so much. I knew you'd enjoy yourself."

"Please," Vanya stammered. "P-p-please, you... you had your fun. Please, can you... can you let me go? Please, I..."

"Oh, no," said the man, and he sounded mad now. He was looming over her - she could faintly make his shape out through the blindfold, and then there was a broad, heavy chest pressing her into the mattress, and there was another tongue inside of her mouth. It was shoved in like a gag, and she wanted to bite him, but the thought of having his blood in her mouth made her want to be sick, and what would he do to her, if she did that? She let him kiss her, as much as it sickened her. She could taste herself, and her own arousal was smearing on her cheeks, across her lips. When he pulled back, he was panting across her face. His breath smelled like pussy, and she clutched at the front of his shirt, the thick material of it (cable knit?) rough under her fingers. 

"I..." Vanya mumbled, and then fell silent as he kissed along her jaw, his tongue dragging over the delicate line of it. His teeth nipped at her pulse, but didn't bite hard enough to leave a mark, thank god. She didn't want to even think about having to explain it at practice the next day. His big hands were cradling her face, and his thumb was collecting the sticky tears off of her cheeks. Then that same thumb was being shoved into her mouth, and she sucked on it, tasting the salt of her own terror. 

"You?" His voice rumbled through his chest, buzzing across her skin. "I'm not done with you yet, baby." He kissed her loudly on the cheek, licking off more of her tears (which, ew), and then he was sitting up again, disentangling her hands from his shirt. He grabbed her by the hips and flipped her over, forcing her face down on the bed. Her hands were trapped under her, and her nose was pressing into the sheets, which at least had been freshly washed. The scent of clean laundry detergent seemed to be pervading her whole body, adding a surreal note to the whole affair. 

Vanya shuddered as he grabbed her legs and she was forced roughly onto her knees, her ear pressing into the mattress, her ass in the air. He was spreading her legs wider, and then he was... he was grabbing the ripped portion of her jeans and boxers, and he yanked them both, in one long rip. The fabric parted.

"Get a load of that view," said the man, and his thumbs were on her labia, pulling her open. "All that pink, just for me."

She was crying harder now. She hadn't known she could cry harder. What if she threw up? She had a feeling he wouldn't appreciate her throwing up. She didn't want to throw up. She tried to keep the hiccuping sobs down, as his hands moved to her ass, and then he was parting her cheeks, and he was looking at— oh no. "Please, don't look at that, please, I'll... I'll do anything, just stop looking, I don't want you to see—"

"What, this pretty little thing?" His thumb pressed against her asshole, barely any pressure, but it made her squirm, trying to get away. He just pressed in further. "How many of your prissy little boyfriends have gotten in here? Any of your girlfriends have done you up the ass?" He grabbed one of the cheeks of her ass, then slapped it hard enough that her ear was ringing. "Well? I asked you a question!"

"N-n-nobody," Vanya stuttered. "Nobody, I've never—"

"Well, congratulations, I’m about to introduce you to one of the wonders of the world." Now he sounded borderline smug, the bastard. She had been afraid of the snarling cruelty, but the smug was just exasperating. She kind of wanted to kick him for being an ass. "Hey," he barked, and another slap. "Thank me."

"Th-thank you," Vanya stuttered out. There was a rustling noise, and he stopped holding her momentarily, although his big body was still a looming presence behind her. 

"Thank me for making you come," he said, as his fingers skated across the line of her slit, then slid back inside of her. Only now it was his _bare_ fingers, the skin rougher than the gloves, his nails newly cut. His other bare hand was clutching at one of the cheeks of her ass, holding her open. Was he watching? Fuck, he probably was. 

"Th-th-thank you," she mumbled. 

"For what?" He twisted his fingers, right up against her g-spot, and she sobbed. He was pressing her in just the way she loved, that made her clench around his fingers, more arousal drooling out of her like a leaking faucet.

"For making me... for making me come," Vanya gasped out.

"Much better," he said, and his other hand was coming around to rub her clit. He was using his leverage to push her further forward, and then there was... breath on her asshole. She'd never felt that before, and it took her a moment to actually realize what it was that she was feeling. When she did, she made a desperate noise, trying to squirm away. 

Only for him to hook his fingers and pinch her clit, which embarrassingly made her gush around him again. His tongue slid into her ass, and she howled, yanking at the bed sheets in her handcuffed hands, her hips jerking forward, her knees digging into the bed. She wriggled against him, but that forced his fingers deeper inside of her, and she was already so oversensitive that it was borderline painful. More than borderline— just flat out painful. His tongue was inside of her, and his nose was against the crack of her ass, his lips clumsily kissing along the rim of her asshole, and his chin was right against some delicate part of her anatomy that she didn’t know the name for, except that it was being rubbed raw by all his stubble. 

She whined as his tongue wriggled inside of her ass, and he was making some sort of pleased noise as he flexed his fingers inside of her, rubbing her clit harder. He was relentless, and every time she tried to get away from his tongue, it pushed her further onto his fingers, until she was just… stuck like that, something in each orifice. His tongue was getting more insistent, and so were his fingers— she could feel another orgasm building in the pit of her stomach, and she must have been babbling some more, shaking her head rapidly. 

“Please stop, t-t-t-t-take it out, I don’t want it I d-d-don’t want… I can’t… not another…” She was babbling as the pleasure began to get intense again, enough to make her toes curl, and she was still wearing her shoes. Wasn’t that weird? Why was she focusing on that, when there was a _tongue_ in her _ass_?

“Mmm,” he murmured, and his tongue withdrew. “We both know that’s a lie. You’re loving this. You’re so wet it’s pruning my fingers up.” He shoved his fingers back inside of her, twisted them roughly, and they were hammering against her g-spot. His teeth sank into one of the cheeks of her ass, sucking on it hard enough to turn her purple. His tongue delved back into her, and her back bowed up as he began to fuck her with his tongue again, fucked her with his fingers. 

She gasped, as she finally stopped teetering over the edge, shame washing over her. Her orgasm was unlike any she’d had before, and there was a sensation of… wetness, utterly foreign and stomach churning. Had she just _peed_ on him? He removed his tongue from her ass, and he sounded almost gleeful. “My instincts were good, huh, baby?” He pulled his fingers out of her cunt, let go of her clit, and then he was wiping them on her belly. “I got myself a cute little squirter!” 

_Oh, shut up_ , Vanya groused internally, and she must have made some kind of annoyed noise, because he was slapping her ass again, and she squealed. 

“You’ve got too much attitude,” he growled, and he grabbed her by the hips, repositioning her yet again. She was beginning to feel like a rag doll. Her hands were starting to fall asleep, and her neck was starting to ache, to say nothing of the way her thighs were shaking. Three orgasms— let alone a squirting orgasm— took a lot out of her, and she was already so tired she just wanted to sleep forever. She hoped he wouldn’t kill her. She hoped… she didn’t know what she hoped. She was spacing out. Her body was on the bed, but her mind was a long way off. 

Something hot and damp and blunt pressed against her thigh, and she was yanked back into her body. “No,” she gasped. “No.”

“You know what that is?” He was behind her, one of his hands on her hip, and he was holding her in place. “That’s my cock. I’m gonna fill you up with this. You’re so tiny, it’ll probably split you in half.” 

“Please don’t, please, please, I’ll suck you off, I’ll do anything you want, please, please, not… there!” Her voice had been getting louder and louder, as he rubbed the head of his cock against her slit, and then it was pushing into her with no resistance. He stretched her open, and he was hot and thick, his pulse hammering through it. She sobbed as he pushed all the way in, until the scratch of his pubic hair was up against her ass. 

“God, baby, you are _tight._ I can’t believe I held off this long.” He rolled his hips, pulling out until just the head was in her, then slamming the whole thing back inside of her, rocking her forward on the bed. “Fuck. If your pussy is this good, your ass will be a dream, won’t it?” 

He draped himself over her back, and his thumb was shoved into her mouth. He was still wearing his shirt - she still had the back of her shirt intact, even if it was all rucked up. It was weirdly clinical and too intimate at the same time. His breath was hot on the side of her face, and his thumb shoved into her mouth. “Get it nice and wet for me, baby girl,” he crooned, as his hips kept rolling forward, plunging his cock in and out. “Just like that. Fuck, I’ll make you suck my cock next time.”

_Next time_? Her eyes were wide, as she sucked frantically at his thumb, her tongue tracing over his thumb nail, across the wrinkles of his knuckle. She sobbed as he yanked his thumb up, and then he was sitting up again, arranging her so that her ass was even more on display. She barely even had any ass, why was he paying so much attention to it?

“Fuck,” he said, and now he sounded… reverent, as he held her ass open again. He pushed in and out of her slowly, and then his thumb was sinking into her asshole. It was the first time she’d had anything solid inside of her ass - she’d only ever had his tongue inside of her, a few minutes ago. All of her was just too sensitive from coming all of those times, and she was just numb. She lay there, being a body on a bed, her head quiet, as he used her.

Vanya’s eyes were shut behind her blindfold, and her breathing was deep and even. She was going to have rugburn— sheetburn?— from being pushed across the bed, but there was still a deep, twisted pleasure in being used like this. A deep humiliation that was mingling with the physical pleasure, at the way that he was just using her like a sex toy. He didn’t care if she was awake, didn’t care how she reacted, didn’t care if she was a Hargreeves or some random girl off the street. She was just a hot, wet hole that was being used.

He gasped when he came, and he shot his come deep inside of her. She was so exhausted from all the crying and the orgasms that she couldn’t even find it in herself to be outraged at that— she was on the pill, and maybe that meant that he was just _done_ , and he’d leave her alone. Or maybe he’d kill her. What did people do with kidnapping victims? She didn’t fucking care at this point. Her hands were starting to tingle, which was probably a bad sign, and she was so tired she could have slept for a million years. 

He pulled out of her, and then she was being turned over, and the hands on her were gentler, almost hesitant. “Vanya?” His voice was nervous, and he sounded like himself now, not like some scary kidnapper off of the street.

Vanya blinked as the blindfold was removed, and she smiled sleepily into Diego’s face, as he hovered anxiously over her own. “Hi,” she said, and she reached up to pet his face clumsily with her handcuffed hands. 

“Hi,” said Diego. His breath… well, it smelled like he had been sticking his tongue in various bodily orifices. Funny, that. “How are you doing?”

“Amazing,” Vanya said, and she stretched luxuriously. “Although my hands are starting to get all… pins and needles-y.” Speech was a bit of a complicated concept right now. She wasn’t even on Cloud Nine— at this point - she’d gotten all the way to Cloud Eighty One. 

“Let me… g-g-get that,” said Diego, and his hands were shaking as he carefully undid the handcuffs. 

Vanya let him, letting her head loll to the side, taking in Diego’s boiler room apartment. It kind of was the perfect place to stage a kidnapping, wasn’t it?

“So… how’d I d-d-do?” Diego was stuttering— - he always did after a particularly intense scene. She’d have to give him some proper attention, when she came back down to the ground.

“Amazing,” she told him, and she gave him a clumsy kiss on the cheek. “You’re the best, Diego. It was… exactly like my fantasy. Thank you, so much.”

“I try,” he mumbled, but he looked pleased, if flustered.

She tugged him down onto her chest, so that his face was pressed into the space between her breasts. He was shaking, and she clung to him with all of her limbs. Being the big scary rapist or kidnapper or whatever bad guy starring in her fantasies tended to fuck him up a bit. He loved doing it for her— - the same way she loved sometimes being his strict Mommy, or the hot lady police chief he needed to bribe for a promotion— - but it always left him a bit shaken.

“It’s okay,” Vanya murmured. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, and he nuzzled into the soft spot of her throat, and kissed it. “Next time, how about you kidnap me?” 

There was a familiar flutter of heat, deep in her belly, and she swallowed. He must have heard her heartbeat speed up, because he looked up at her, one eyebrow up. 

“I’m sure I could find it in me to give it a try,” she said, and her voice only cracked a little bit.

He snickered, and relaxed into her, like a warm weighted blanket.


End file.
